Typewriter
by Rosewood girl 317
Summary: Aria and Ezra, a newly wed couple, are struggling to survive financially and emotionally after they leave Pennsylvania for Oakland California. One day Aria finds the perfect present for her husband, but she can't afford it. What sacrifices will Aria make? How will the couple make Christmas special when they're so far away from their friends and family? Please read and review!


Aria's POV

My eyes flutter open when I feel the bed underneath me shift ever so slightly. A soft smile forms on my face when I see my husband of five months sitting on the bed that we share and holding a bouquet of roses. The roses are without a doubt to congratulate me for finishing my first semester at UC Berkley, where I am receiving a PHD in English. College at The University of Pennsylvania was hard, but graduate school is even harder. I haven't slept in nearly a week since the paper I've been working on for the past four months was due yesterday. It's a relief to be done, and it's even more of a relief to have a husband who recognizes all my hard work.

"Good morning, sunshine," Ezra says before planting a soft kiss on my forehead.

"Morning, baby. Roses for me? That is so thoughtful of you. You honestly didn't have to do that," I say as I take the beautiful red rose from him and breathe in their delightful scent.

"Yes I did. My darling wife just finished her first semester of graduate school, and I'm so incredibly proud of her. I know the past few months have been hard for you, Aria."

Hard is an understatement. Ezra proposed to me on a vacation to Hawaii during Spring break of my senior year of college. Even though I was surprised by Ezra's sudden proposal, I agreed to marry him in a heart beat. I've loved Ezra since I was sixteen years old, and I am certain he is my soul mate. Still, the engagement created all sorts of conflict for us. Less than two months after we got engaged, I found out that Berkley accepted me into their PHD program. They have the best program in the country, so it would have been ludicrous to deny their offer. Even though Ezra's job and friends were in Philadelphia, he agreed to follow me to California so I could pursue my dreams. Fortunately, Ezra was able to find a job teaching at a public high school in Oakland, which is only about twelve miles from our town house just outside of Berkley's campus.

Things are finally starting to fall into place for us, yet the transition has been incredibly difficult. We had to leave all of our friends and family on the East Coast, and we don't know anyone in California. Not to mention, I've been so busy with my schooling that I hardly ever get to see Ezra during the week days. It frustrates him a great deal, but I know he understands. Ezra loves me, and he's willing to make sacrifices to keep me happy. So even though the past few months have been hard, they've also been the happiest days of my life. I love coming home after a long day of school and seeing him preparing dinner in the kitchen. I love the feeling of him slipping a blanket over my body at three o'clock in the morning while I'm working on a paper. I love the way he holds me close to him at night even though I screamed at him for leaving the toilet seat up a few minutes before. I love Ezra. I love him so damn much. In a strange way, this scary experience has brought us closer together. He's all I have out here, and that has made us connect on an even deeper level. Still, there's a part of me that feels guilty for dragging him out to California and making him leave everything behind.

"Hard for me? It's been hard for you too, Ezra. If anything, I should be buying you roses. I'm not exactly the easiest person to be around when I'm stressed, and you've been so supportive of me," I say as I drop the roses and wrap my arms around his strong shoulders.

"Well, it's my job. I'm your husband and more importantly, I'm deeply and helpless in love with you," Ezra says as he tucks a piece of my brunette hair behind my ear.

"I love you too, Ezra. Honestly, you have no idea."

"I think I have a pretty good idea, sweetheart. I just feel badly that you won't get to see the other people you love on Christmas," Ezra says with a breathy sigh.

I feel pretty badly about that too. With rent, student loans, and other basic necessities, money has been incredibly tight. Unfortunately, we couldn't find plane tickets to Pennsylvania that were within our price range. As a result, we won't be seeing our friends and family this year on Christmas.

"Don't feel badly. It sucks, but it could be so much worse. There's no snow on the ground out here, and I have you to celebrate with," I say, trying to cheer my husband up.

"Good point. It's our first Christmas as a married couple, so we should try to make it special. I was thinking a romantic evening in the heart of San Francisco. I could take you to a nice dinner, and then we could stroll through Union Square."

"That sounds nice, but not like us at all. I was thinking a night in. I could cook Christmas dinner, and then we could watch some old movies. After that we could do other stuff. Since you refuse to let me buy you a present this year, I'll have to treat you in other ways," I say with a mischievous smile.

"That sounds nice, baby. Much better than what I had in mind," Ezra says as an uncomfortable look washes over his face. What's going on with him? No witty or boyish remark? Maybe he doesn't like my idea as much as I thought he would.

"Ezra, is everything okay? You don't seem to like my idea," I say with a frown.

"What are you talking about? I love your idea!"

"Really? You seem... Uncomfortable. Maybe even guilty."

"Aria, what would you say if I told you that I might have slipped up?"

"Slipped up how?" I ask as I furrow my brow in confusion.

"On our agreement to not buy Christmas presents," Ezra murmurs as he avoids looking into my hazel eyes.

"Well, I would be incredibly frustrated since it was your idea to skip out on presents this year. We're trying to save money, remember?" I ask as I begin to raise my voice.

"I-I'm sorry. I just saw something so perfect for you, Aria. Besides, it wasn't expensive at all. I'll just avoid my favorite coffee shop for a week to make up for it," My husband says as he rests a hand on my shoulder.

"Ezra, you really shouldn't have done that. I don't need you to princess me more than you already do. It looks like I'm going to have to find you a present now."

"No, you don't need to spend the money. You can treat me in other ways, remember?" Ezra asks with a smirk.

"Jesus Christ, Ezra! Sex doesn't count! I can't not get you a present now that you've gotten me something!"

"That's not true. I'm honestly fine with sex," Ezra says with a shrug.

"If you don't shut up about sex, I'm not giving you any for at least a month. Can you please tell me how much my present cost so I can get you something within the same price range?" I ask, feeling incredibly impatient all of the sudden.

"Aria, I'm not going to tell you the price. That's incredibly tacky."

"For goodness sakes, Ezra!" I shout in frustration.

"Okay, okay. Your present cost ten dollars," Ezra mutters.

"No it didn't," I say in disbelief.

"Fifty."

"Ezra," I say as I raise an eye brow.

"One hundred."

"One hundred dollars? You should have done that, Ezra. You really shouldn't have done that," I say as I stand up and begin to pace around the bedroom anxiously.

"Get me something cheaper. I honestly don't care."

"I can't get you something cheaper. We both know that wouldn't be fair," I say with a sigh.

"Why are you always so concerned with fairness? Not everything has to be fair, Aria. I wanted to do something special for you, and I don't expect anything in return. Can't you just accept my gift and move on?"

"That's not who I am, Ezra. We both know that I'll feel guilty if I don't reciprocate the favor. Stay here while I get dressed."

"Where are you going?" Ezra asks with confusion in his voice.

"To get you your Christmas present."

"Right now? Seriously?" Ezra whines.

"Yes. Now shut up and stop complaining!" I growl before hurrying into our bathroom so I can change.

Line Break

I wince as I take a sip of the coffee I just purchased. It tastes like a combination of terrible cinnamon and cat urine. I should have played it safe and gone to Starbucks, but I couldn't resist when saw the sign that read "two dollar coffees." What in the world was I thinking? I should have known that such cheep coffee would taste horrible. I sigh before chucking the cup of coffee into the nearest trash can. It doesn't matter. I'm here to buy Ezra a present, not to satisfy my fancy for coffee.

As I walk through the streets of Oakland, I can't help but worry that I'll never be able to find a perfect gift for Ezra within my prince range. I know that he won't care, but I know whatever he got me will be absolutely perfect. Ezra's presents are always perfect, and I always manage to lower the bar to subpar. Last Christmas I got him a copy of "The Great Gatsby" and a red tie. He got me a bracelet from Tiffanies and a homemade portrait of myself. For his birthday I got him new champaign glasses and a pair of boxers. For my birthday he took me on a vacation to Hawaii and gave me a wedding ring. I know know what I'm going to give Ezra this year, but I cannot be outdone again. I love Ezra more than anything, so I want to get him something special. After everything he's done for me, the least I can do is buy him a decent Christmas present.

I immediately stop walking when I see a unique looking pawnshop. I'm sure it is filled with archaic merchandise, and Ezra loves those kinds of things. The only problem is that almost everything in pawnshops tends to be on the pricey side. Well, I can at least try to find something in here. I'm sure there's something in my price range that's worth buying.

The first thing I see when I enter the pawnshop is a display of mediocre paintings. Ezra loves artwork, but I could make him something that looks as good as most of these for free. Next to the artwork is a display of handguns. Ezra's never been interested in guns. He became even less interested after he took that bullet to the chest. I'm definitely not going to risk triggering his anxiety for a stupid handgun.

Oh. My. God. My heart nearly stops beating in my chest when I see an antique typewriter sitting by itself on a podium. When we lived in Pennsylvania, Ezra did all of his writing on the typewriter that he bought for himself after college. Unfortunately, we couldn't fit Ezra's prized possession in the moving boxes, and we certainly couldn't afford to ship it out to California. Ezra had no choice but to sell the typewriter, and though he'd never admit it to me, I could tell that it bothered him immensely. Ever since Ezra sold the typewriter, he's suffered from an unshakable stage of writer's block. The writer's block has caused him a lot of sadness because he loves writing more than anything. Well, anything other than me, of course. Maybe if I got Ezra this typewriter, he'd find inspiration again. I get a better look at the typewriter and realize that it's significantly nicer than his old one. The black paint on this typewriter doesn't have a single chip and the buttons look smoother than a skipping rock. I have to get Ezra this typewriter.

"Excuse me, Ma'am," A gruff voice says.

A startled gasp escapes from my lips, but I calm down when I turn around and realize that it's just the store owner. For some reason, this guy gives me the creeps. He's plump, especially around the middle, and his arms are covered with tattoos. The man also has a disgusting mustache and piercings on his tongue, ears, and nose. I nearly run out of the store after I take in his appearance, but I finally to convince myself to get a grip. This is a pawnshop. I should have expected rough looking men.

"I caught you stealing a glance at our antique typewriter. Are you interested in buying it for yourself or a loved one?"

"Yes, absolutely. My husband needs a new typewriter, and I want to get him one for Christmas. How much will this cost?" I ask as I gesture towards the typewriter.

"Well, usually it would cost around one thousand dollars. However, I'll lower the price to nine-hundred dollars for a pretty lady like yourself," The owner says with a flirtatious wink.

I'm too shocked by the price of the typewriter to be creeped out by the store owner's advances. I don't have nine hundred dollars to spend. That money could go towards paying the rent, or even our electric bills.

"I-I can't afford that. Do you have any cheaper typewriters?"

"I'm afraid I do not, Ma'am. This is the only one we carry."

"Oh, okay. Thanks anyways," I say with a breathy sigh.

"Hold on there, Ma'am. Maybe if you don't have the cash to pay for this beauty, you have something else you could give to me. This is a pawnshop, after all. Do you have anything worth pawning?" The man questions.

"I-I don't know. Do I?" I ask as I stand up a little straighter.

"Hmmm. That watch of yours looks pretty nice. Do you mind if I take a look?" The owner asks as he gestures towards my right wrist.

H-He wants my watch? Spencer gave this to me for my twenty-first birthday. Even though I didn't wear it at first, I haven't taken it off my wrist since I came to California. I miss my best friend more than words can describe and looking down at the watch always reminds me of her. I don't want to give this man my watch, but I'm obviously going to have to make some sacrifices if I want to get that typewriter. Spencer would understand. I know she would.

"Yes, sir," I grumble as I take off the watch and hand it to the man. He looks at it closely, and I can feel myself becoming anxious. What if it's not enough?

"This is a nice watch, but I can tell that it's not worth nine hundred dollars. I can, however, give you two hundred dollars for it," The owner offers.

"I appreciate your offer, but I still don't have enough to buy the typewriter."

"We have a lot of women your age come into this store, you know. They're always looking for trendy shoes like yours."

My Torrey Burch heels? He can't be serious. I bought these on a shopping trip with Hanna a few summers ago, and they are my absolute favorite shoes. I wear them as often as I possibly can, and I can't imagine not having them in my closet. But they might be just enough to afford the typewriter...

"Here you go," I say as I wiggle out of the shoes and hand them to the man.

"Hmm. I can offer you one hundred dollars even for these," The owner says after looking at them for a solid five minutes.

"Only a hundred? I bought them for three hundred originally," I say as my eyes grow wide with shock.

"Yes, I believe you. These shoes might have been worth three-hundred dollars at the time, but you've obviously worn them a lot. They're pretty run down, and I'm afraid the most I can offer you is a hundred."

"That's great, but I still don't have enough. I'm sorry."

"Wait just a minute. That locket of yours looks like it could be worth something."

No. I cannot give him my locket. It belonged to my grandmother, and she gave it to me just before she died. I've been wearing the locket since I was twelve years old, and I intend on giving it to my daughter if I ever have one.

"The locket isn't for sale," I say as I run my fingers over the piece of jewelry.

"Why so stubborn? Was it a gift from the boyfriend that your husband doesn't know about? Is that why you want to get him the typewriter so badly? Do you feel guilty?" The man asks with an annoying smirk.

"No, asshole. The locket belonged to my grandmother. I'm not giving it to you," I say as I begin to raise my voice.

"That's a shame. Your locket is made out of carat gold, isn't it?" The man questions.

"Yes, but that doesn't concern you since it's not for sale."

"Huh. We could really use a locket in this store. Yours is pretty damn old, but I suppose that's part of its charm. If the locket were for sale, I'd be willing to offer you five hundred dollars for it."

"F-Five hundred dollars?" I ask as I try to contain my chock.

"Uh-huh. With the locket, the shoes, and the watch, you'd only have to pay a hundred dollars for the typewriter. That's a heck of a deal."

A hundred dollars is right in my price range. It turns out I can afford the typewriter after all. I just- I just don't know if I can bear to part with my grandmother's locket. Having it around my neck brings me so much joy and comfort, and I don't ever want to lose that sense of security. Then again, Ezra lost so much when he agreed to come out here with me. He lost his position at Hollis, the apartment he loved, his friends, and his typewriter merely so he could walk down the aisle with me. My locket seems microscopic compared to those things. Giving the locket away is the least I can do for the man who has sacrificed so much for me over the years.

"Okay," I say as I take off my locket and hand it to the man. Tears begin to spill out of my hazel eyes, and I internally scold myself for crying over a stupid locket. It's just a piece of jewelry. Besides, I don't need it to remember my beloved grandmother.

"The hundred dollars?" The owner asks as he holds out his hand.

"Right," I grumble as I pull the lone hundred dollar bill out of my wallet and hand it to the man.

"Perfect. Would you like wrapped? It will only cost you fifty dollars, or that wallet of yours."

"No, thank you. By the way, sir, you are the most disgusting man I have ever laid eyes on," I growl before picking up the heavy typewriter and storming out of the pawnshop.

Ezra's POV

When I was a child, Christmas was by far the happiest day of the year. I was spoiled with the most delicious food that our personal chef could offer and with an abundance of presents from "Santa Claus." I never thought Christmas could get any better, but I was wrong. I couldn't be any happier than I am right now, as I sit with Aria on our cheap couch while we watch cheesy Christmas movies and enjoy the chicken that she prepared for us. Tonight is pure bliss.

"Are you finished?" Aria asks as she gestures towards my empty plate.

"Yes," I say with a nod.

Aria responds by sprinting to her feet, but I gently push her back down. Last Saturday after her Christmas shopping, Aria came back to our house in tears. Apparently her feet were so sore from walking that she took off her heels and carried them home. Unfortunately, she stepped on a glass bottle in the process. I rushed my poor wife to the hospital where they removed the glass and stitched up her foot. To make matters worse, the next day Aria's back was so sore that she couldn't get out of bed. I had to take her to the same hospital, where a young doctor informed us that she threw out her back. He said it was probably from carrying heavy objects, but Aria and I shrugged off this idea. She never has to lift a finger, let alone haul around heavy objects.

"Honey, I've got the dishes. You've been on your feet all day, and the doctors specifically told you to avoid standing as much as possible."

"Well, Christmas dinner wasn't going to cook itself."

"You could have at least let me help."

"You would have burned something."

"That's probably true, but I can at least do the dishes so you can relax. I don't think I'll be able to burn anything while I do that."

"Maybe not, but you'll probably break something," Aria says with an adorable little giggle.

"I'll be extra careful. Now sit here and relax while I finish cleaning," I say before taking Aria's plate and offering her a soft kiss on the forehead. Fortunately my wife doesn't protest anymore, so I stroll into the kitchen and wash the dishes. Since it's only the two of us this year, it only takes me about five minutes to finish. Afterwards, I hurry back into the living room so I can spend the rest of the evening with my beautiful bride.

"Did you break anything?" Aria questions as soon as I enter the room.

"No. I can't believe you have such little faith in your own husband," I say with a fake hurt expression on my face.

"Sorry, but I haven't done a good enough job of domesticating you yet. What do you say we open presents now so we can move on to the fun part of the evening?"

"That sounds fantastic," I say as a smile begins to form on my face.

"Perfect. Do you mind getting my present to you out of the storage closet? I didn't exactly have time to wrap it, but you'll know what it is when you see it," Aria informs me.

I chuckle before nodding my head and walking over to the storage closet on the other side of the room. I have to admit that my expectations are pretty low. Aria is a sweetheart, but she's not exactly a master at picking out presents. It's actually kind of amusing. She tries her best though, so I never comment on her inability to find a decent present.

I open up the storage closet and gasp when I see a brand new typewriter. I pick up the object and observe it's remarkable features. The paint is perfect, and it's outlined with gold metal. This is by far the nicest typewriter I've ever seen. I'm still in shock as I pick up the surprisingly heavy object and carry it back to the couch. Where did Aria find this? It definitely didn't cost less than a hundred dollars.

"D-Do you like it?" Aria asks me nervously.

I respond by setting the typewriter down and enveloping my wife in a hug. Does she honestly have to ask that? I've wanted a new typewriter for months, and now I finally have one.

"Like it? I absolutely love it, baby. How much did you spend though?" I ask as I stare into Aria's hazel eyes.

"I spent a hundred dollars, just like you did."

"That's a lie. I sold the old type writer for three hundred dollars and it was nowhere near as nice as this one. Please, Aria. Tell me the truth," I say as I run my fingers through her silky brunette hair.

"I am telling the truth. I only paid a hundred dollars for it!"

"Huh. Where did you find such a nice typewriter for that cheap of a price?"

"The pawn shop a few streets down. I-I saw it, and I knew I had to get it for you."

I cannot believe my wife set foot in that filthy pawn shop! I've been in there a few times, and the owner is such a creep. Last time I was there, he tried to get me sell him my tie so I could afford one of his ugly paintings. Oh my God. Aria must have pawned some of her things so she could afford the typewriter. I honestly hope she didn't do that for me.

"Sweetheart, did you pawn anything? I know that the owner is incredibly persuasive, and I hope he didn't convince you to give anything away so you could afford to buy me such a nice present," I say as my voice begins to soften.

"N-No. Of course not," Aria says as she avoids looking into my blue eyes.

"Aria," I say as I raise an eye brow.

"Okay, okay. I pawned a thing or two, but it doesn't matter. I wanted to do it, Ezra."

"What did you pawn?" I ask her curiously.

"I don't want to tell you. That's incredibly tacky," Aria says as she begins to shake her head vigorously.

"Aria, if you don't tell me I'll go to the pawn shop and find out for myself."

"I gave away my watch, my heels, and my locket. It honestly wasn't a big deal," Aria says with a shrug.

Aria's right. That wasn't a big deal. It was a huge deal. Those things mean a lot to Aria, especially the locket. It belonged to her grandmother, and she never takes it off. I can't believe I didn't notice that she hasn't been wearing it!

"Aria, what in the world compelled you to do something like this? I'm going to the pawn shop first thing tomorrow morning to see if I can get your things back!"

"Ezra, don't. Please. I wanted to do it," Aria says as tears begin to well up in her hazel eyes.

"Honey! The typewriter is nice, but I don't need it. I can't accept your gift knowing that you gave up so much for me to have it."

"Why not? You gave up your original typewriter for me. You gave up everything for me, Ezra. I liked the things I gave up, but I don't need them either. Please just take the typewriter and move on," Aria says as she bursts into tears.

I respond by scooping Aria into my arms and cradling her like a baby. The poor girl is shaking, and I quickly realize that this must be a deeply rooted problem. Does she feel guilty about something?

"What do you mean I gave up everything for you, Aria?" I ask as I furrow my brow in confusion.

"Don't play dumb, Ezra. Y-You left your home so I could pursue my education. You didn't have to do that, but you did it anyways. I-I want to make it up to you somehow."

"Aria Fitz, is that where all of this is coming from? I don't want you to feel guilty about my decision to marry you and come to California. I know I didn't have to do it, but I wanted to. I did give up a lot, but I got you in return. That's the best deal in the world, as far as I'm concerned. You owe me absolutely nothing."

"I'm just terrified that you're going to wake up one morning and resent me," Aria confesses.

"Resent you? I could never resent you, Aria. I love you, and I don't regret my decision in the slightest. You've made plenty of sacrifices for me over the years, and I know you'd have done the same exact thing if I had been in your shoes."

"Ezra, you're right. I would have done the same thing for you. I know I don't always do the best job of showing it, but I'd do anything for you. I-I love you more than anything in the world, and that's why I want you to have the typewriter. Will you please accept my gift? You mean so much much more to me than an old locket," Aria says with a sniffle.

As much as I love the typewriter, I'm hesitant to accept it. I know Aria wants me to have it, but I feel terrible that she gave up her locket for me. Then again, Aria made that decision and she doesn't seem to regret it. I don't want to offend Aria by not accepting the gift that she went to so much trouble to find. Oh my gosh! Aria didn't walk home barefoot because her feet were sore. She did it because she had just pawned her shoes! She must have thrown out her back carrying the typewriter home!

"Baby girl, if it means that much to you, I'll take it. I finally figured out why you walked home barefoot and how you threw out your back," I say with a breathy sigh.

"Don't worry about it, Ezra. I'm feeling much better, and it was so worth it."

"I have to admit that I'm kind of embarrassed. You went to so much trouble to find me such a wonderful gift, and mine is nowhere near as valuable."

"That's okay, Ezra. I don't mind," Aria assures me.

"But it's not fair! I'll have to get you another present to make up for it," I decide.

"Ezra, why are you always so concerned with fairness? I wanted to do something nice for you, and I didn't expect anything in return. Can't you just accept my gift and move on?" Aria asks, mimicking my words from the other day.

"Maybe that's not who I am," I say with a smirk.

"Well, you're more than welcome to treat me in other ways," Aria says with a giggle.

"I thought sex didn't count."

"Honey, sex always counts. It's literally the best gift ever."

"Okay, my little bunny rabbit. How about you open my present and then you can decide if sex is the best gift ever," I say as I hand my wife a small package.

Aria nods and doesn't hesitate to rip open the wrapping paper. She gasps as she holds out the glass ornament that's shaped like the Golden Gate Bridge. The words, "Leaving My Heart in San Fransisco" are painted on the bottom of the decoration.

"Oh, Ezra! It's absolutely beautiful!"

"I know we couldn't afford a tree this year, but I want one every year from now on. I was thinking we could start a tradition."

"What kind of tradition?" Aria asks me curiously.

"Every year each of us could pick out a single ornament that has some kind of special significance. The more Christmases we spend together, the more ornaments we'll have on our tree. Also, when we start having kids, they can join in the tradition too. Our Christmas tree will be like our story."

"Ezra! That's the sweetest thing I've ever heard. I absolutely love it. Thank you," Aria says as she drops the ornament and presses her lips against mine. I want to move this into the bedroom, but first I have to give Aria the second part of her present.

"What?" Aria asks as I reluctantly break the kiss.

"I um- I have one more present to give you," I say as I reach behind the couch and hand her a Victoria's Secret bag. Aria opens it and gasps when she pulls a black teddy out of the bag.

"A teddy? Seriously, Ezra? I think this is more of a present to yourself than it is a present to me," Aria says with a playful eye roll.

"No-No, that's certainly not true. If you wear it, I'll be tempted to spend the remainder of the night on my knees."

"I-I'll be right back!" Aria exclaims before grabbing the teddy and rushing out of the bedroom.

Laura's POV (Fourteen Years Later)

My eyes flutter open when I feel my bed moving. What in the world is going on? I sit up and sigh when I see my four year old sister, Carrie, jumping on the bed that I'm sharing with my older sister Melissa.

"Wake up, sissies! It's Christmas!" Carrie screams as she continues to jump up and down.

"Carrie, go away. We're tired," I groan.

"Laura, what are you doing in my bed?" Melissa asks as she sits up abruptly.

My eyes dart over to my empty bed on the other end of the room and the details of last night come flooding back into my brain. I woke up in the middle of the night, and I was freezing. My family just moved to Pennsylvania from California a few months ago, and I'm still getting used to the cold. I ran over to Melissa's bed so we could cuddle and stay warm. My parents make me share a room with Melissa since she's twelve and I'm ten, and Carrie gets her own room. Melissa complains a lot, but I secretly like sharing.

"I-I got cold. I'm still cold," I say as my teeth begin to shatter.

Melissa responds by scooting our blanket up and wrapping her arms around me. Mom says we bicker too much, but Melissa is still my best friend. Carrie, on the other hand, is super annoying. Still, she's really cute sometimes.

"Did I hear that someone is cold?" My father asks as he enters our bedroom.

"Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!" Carrie screams as she jumps into our dad's arms.

"Hello, sweetheart. Are you cold?" Dad asks as he stares down at my little sister.

"No. Laura is cold!"

"Is that so? Don't worry, Laura, I have the heater on full blast. Mommy also laid out all of your robes in the living room. Those should keep you warm until that heater kicks in," Dad tells us.

"Where is Mom?" Melissa asks our dad curiously.

"She's in the kitchen making you girls hot chocolate."

"I'm going to help," Melissa says before springing to her feet and hurrying out of the bedroom.

"Wait for me, Mel!" Carrie shouts as she chases after her.

Now it's just me and my dad. He takes a seat next to me in bed and plants a kiss on my forehead. I kiss him back, and he smiles at me.

"That's Melissa for you. Always at her mother's hip," My dad says with a chuckle.

It's true. Melissa and my mom are best friends. My big sister always wants to stay inside with Mom and study. I'm best friends with my dad because I like to go outside and play sports. I was the faster than all of the boys at my old school, and I'm still the fastest at my new school! Dad is so proud that he signed me up for competitive soccer. I like soccer even more than I like racing.

"And I'm always at your hip!"

"Merry Christmas, half-pint," My dad says as he wraps an arm around my shoulder.

"Merry Christmas, Daddy!"

"What do you say we go into the kitchen with your mother and sisters?"

"I say that sounds wonderful!"

Line Break

One of my favorite parts of Christmas morning is breakfast. My mom makes the most delicious blueberry pancakes, and I usually eat so many of them that I'm not hungry for the rest of the day! My mom always says that I eat like a horse and that my eyes are bigger than my stomach, but I have no idea what any of that means. All I know is that I love food!

Since I love food so much, I eat more than my sisters do. I always finish eating last, and they're not allowed to leave the table until I'm done. Melissa keeps giving me scary looks as I finish my last pancake, so I try to eat it as quickly as I can.

"Slow down there, darling. I don't want you to get a stomach ache!" Mom exclaims as her eyes grow wide with worry.

"No, hurry up!" Carrie exclaims as she crosses her arms over her chest and sticks her tongue out at me.

"Carrie, that's not very nice. Let Laura eat in peace," Mom tells my younger sister seriously.

"It's okay, Mom. I'm done."

"Are you sure, half pint?" My mom asks me gently.

"Yes. I'm full."

"What do you say we go into the living room and put our ornaments on the tree?" My father suggests.

"That sounds lovely. I'll clean the dishes later," My mom says as she picks up Carrie and leads us into the living room.

As soon as we enter the living room, Carrie jumps out of Mom's arms and sprints over to the Christmas tree. Melissa laughs along with my parents, but I just roll my eyes in annoyance.

"Santa brought me presents, Mommy! I want to open my presents!"

"Not yet, Carrie. We have to put our ornaments on the tree first," My mom says as my father hands each of us the ordainments we bought this year.

"Since I'm the oldest person in this room, I'll start by sharing my ornament. As you ladies can see, my ordainment spells out, "Pennsylvania." I know the move has been hard on you girls, but I think it's for the best. Your mother and I are overjoyed to be close to our friends and family again, and now the three of you get to see your grandparents and aunties almost everyday. I'm so happy that my three angels are surrounded by people who love them as much as their mother and I do," My father says as he takes his ornament and places it in the center of the Christmas tree.

As soon as he's done, my mom kisses my dad on the lips. Melissa smiles, but I wince. I think it's gross when my parents kiss. She says it's romantic. I don't understand what romantic is, but I don't think it's a good thing.

"As you all know, this has been a very eventful year for me. I just finished my first novel, and I'm teaching with Daddy at The University of Pennsylvania. You three girls are the most important things in my life, but up until this year I'd been too busy raising you to pursue my writing. Now that you're all a bit older, I've been able to get back to my writing. Even though the three of you were what kept me from writing for a short amount of time, you were also the people who motivated me to get back to it. As you know, the novel is about a mother daughter relationship, and you three were my little muses during the writing process. I'm so grateful for my beautiful daughters, and when you're old enough to read my novel, I hope you'll enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it," My mom says as she places her ornament next to my father's.

"When can we read your book, Mommy?" I ask her curiously.

"I haven't decided yet. I want you to wait until you're eighteen, but I have a feeling you'll persuade me to give it to you earlier."

"How about when I turn thirteen?" Melissa asks.

"Nice try, Mel, but absolutely not. How about you show us your ornament?"

"Okay. As you all can see, I chose an ornament that's shaped like a snowflake. Last year in school, my teacher showed us a quote about snow. It said, "Snow falling soundlessly in the middle of the night will always fill my heart with sweet clarity." Up until I few weeks ago, I had never seen snow before, so I didn't really understand this quote. One night I couldn't sleep because I was feeling sad and missing all of my friends in California. I heard a weird noise, so I looked out my window and saw snow falling for the first time. All of the sudden, I didn't feel sad anymore. I was so busy looking at the snow that I forgot to feel sad. It taught me that no matter how upset you are, there's always something to be happy about. It could be something simple like snow, or it could be something big like having the best sisters in the world. Even though it's really cold, I love the snow because it taught me this lesson. Snow is my favorite part of living in Pennsylvania," Melissa says as she puts her ornament on the tree.

Melissa is the smartest person I know. Mom always says she has a gentle heart, and I agree. As soon as my sister comes back to the couch, I give her a ginormous hug. Even though she's bossy sometimes, I love her a lot.

"That was so beautiful, Melissa." My mom says as tears begin to spill out of her hazel eyes.

"It sure was. Our little girl is growing up, Aria." My dad says with a sad smile.

"I have to go after Melissa every year, and it's not fair. She always says something so smart, and I can never measure up," I say with a breathy sigh.

"That's not true. I always like hearing what you have to say, Laura," Melissa says as she shakes her head slowly.

"I enjoy it too. We love you Laura, and we're not comparing you to Melissa. You two might be sisters, but you're different people," My mom says as her eyes dart over to me.

"Come on, half pint. Show us what you've got!" My father exclaims.

"Okay, fine. I got a soccer ball ornament because Dad signed me up for competitive soccer this year. I used to feel confused because everyone in our family has something they're good at except for me. Mom and Dad have their writing, and Melissa has school and reading. Carrie... You're only four so it's hard to tell, but you're really good at being cute and getting your way. Up until I started playing soccer, I didn't think I was good at anything. Now I know that I'm a great soccer player and I love doing it. Thanks for letting me play, Daddy."

"Laura, come here, sweetheart," My dad says as he holds his arms out for me.

I run into Dad's arms and he runs his fingers through the curly hair I got from him. I like when my dad holds me. It makes me feel safe.

"Half pint, I'm so happy that you love soccer. Having a passion is an important part of growing up, but I want you to know that you're good at a lot of things. You're a great leader, sister, and daughter. We'd still love you even if you couldn't kick a soccer ball two feet," My dad says before kissing my forehead softly.

"He's right, Laura. You're a very special girl, and we're so proud of you. I've been proud of you since the day you were born," My mom tells me.

"Thanks, Mommy and Daddy. I love you."

"We love you too, half pint. Now, I think it's Carrie's turn to share her ornament," My mom says with a wide smile.

"I got a teddy bear!" Carrie exclaims as she holds out her ornament.

"That's nice, baby. Can you tell us why the teddy bear is important?" My father asks her softly.

"Because I like teddy bears! They're cute!"

I slap my hand against my forehead, but everyone else begins to laugh. Carrie is such a baby. I'm sure I was much more mature than she is when I was four. I think she acts younger than she is for attention.

"That's so good, sweetheart. Go put your ornament on the tree!" My mom instructs.

Carrie runs over to the tree and hangs the ornament. She walks around the tree before running back to the couch. It isn't until she comes back that I realize she's holding the ornament of the Golden Gate Bridge.

"I like this one!" Carrie exclaims as she holds out the ornament.

"I like that one too, Care bear. Actually, I think it's my favorite of all the ornaments," My mom says with a slight smile.

"Why is it your favorite, Mom?" Melissa asks her curiously.

"Because it was our family's first ornament. Daddy bought it for me to celebrate our first Christmas as a married couple."

"I did. That started the ornament tradition. That was also the Christmas you bought me my typewriter."

"Your lucky typewriter? The one that you use to write all of of your novels?" I question.

"That's the one, half pint. Other than you three, the typewriter is the best gift your mother has ever given me. She sure went to a lot of trouble for it," My dad says with a chuckle.

"Mommy got in trouble?" Carrie asks as her eyes grow wide with shock.

"No, honey. Mommy didn't get in trouble. I just meant that she had to sacrifice a lot to get that typewriter."

"What do you mean? What did you have to sacrifice, Mom?" Melissa asks her curiously.

"It's a long story, Mel."

"Story? I want to hear a story, Mommy!" Carrie screams as she begins to jump up and down like a maniac.

"I want to hear the story too," I say, agreeing with my younger sister for once.

"You do? Are you sure you don't want to open your presents from Santa first?" My mom asks us curiously.

"Yeah! Santa first!" Carrie says with a nod.

"No, Carrie. I want to hear the story first. We can open presents after," I tell the four year old.

"Okay, story first," Carrie says with a sigh.

"Is that okay with you, Melissa?" My mother asks as she turns to face my sister.

"Yeah, I want to hear," Melissa says as she cuddles closer to my mom.

"Okay. The story starts fourteen years ago a few days before Christmas. Daddy and I had just moved to San Fransisco and we were madly in love, just like we are now..."

AN: I know Christmas isn't until tomorrow but I figured everything would be too busy with their families to be reading fanfiction. What did you think of this story? Did you like seeing Aria and Ezra as a newly wed couple and then seeing them as parents a few years down the road? What was the moral of this story? Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you have a very merry Christmas, or whatever Holliday you celebrate :).


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